


Campfire

by Dangersocks



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 17:58:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/814376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangersocks/pseuds/Dangersocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of campfires and family trees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Campfire

The rain let up when it had decided it was done. Thorin's Company had chosen a small rock ledge to camp under, with corners that had remained dry in the shelter of hanging stone. It looked out into a small clearing that was full of puddles, and a silence seemed to descend on them all when the last of the raindrops stopped.

Gandalf used this silence to hurumph a nod in the direction of Dori, who nodded and rolled his eyes in good sport.

Bilbo, wet and shivering, dismissed the exchange and looked to Oin expectantly for a fire. Together with Gloin's help, they had one going in not too long of time and the Company set about taking inventory of wet, damp and dry gear. Food was put on and as the stars started to shine above them, spirits steadily rose.

Bilbo placed himself on a log three of the Dwarfs had carried to surround the sheltered fire with a contented sigh. He still felt chilled but no doubt that would pass soon. Gloin, Nori, Ori, Dori and Balin had encircled the blaze too, though conversation seemed short and private where it happened and Bilbo did not mind.

He had mastered the names and identifying features of all of the Dwarfs near the end of his first encounter with them. It was good Hobbit manners to know the names and faces of all guests, expected or not. And Bilbo had found many instances to practice those names through cursing them on his first night. Sometimes, he caught Gandalf using a mnemonic to keep a few of the Dwarfs straight. Bilbo felt some pride at surpassing the Wizard in something, and his eyes picked out Gandalf standing under the stone with his pipe and a thoughtful look gazing out into the night.

A presence suddenly broke Bilbo's attention as a shape stepped over the log and then loomed over the Hobbit.

"Bilbo."

The Hobbit's gaze snapped up to Thorin, who met his stare before settling down on the log beside him. Bilbo instinctively shifted to make more room, though there had been plenty. He was always unconsciously giving the Dwarf Prince a safe berth.

"Thorin," he muttered, staring at the fire and frowning with his brows. He told himself to be polite and to relax. The other Dwarfs were nodding at their leader with a familiarity that Bilbo believed would be forever beyond him.

"Our dear Burglar," started Thorin, which tightened the muscles in Bilbo's stomach at the realization that formalities had not ended. "We've traveled some days together and while you have heard of my line, and those of my kin, we know not of yours."

"My…my line?" Bilbo stuttered, snapping his head from the fire and not quite matching Thorin's gaze. "I—I'm not sure…"

"Do Hobbits not count their family history very closely?" asked Balin with curiosity.

Bilbo chewed his lip, and then nodded. "Oh, yes. Yes we do, but—hmmm."

He put on a show of thinking deeply about it. And the Dwarfs were patient, though Thorin's presence right beside Bilbo seemed to add pressure to the question. He felt that he had to answer carefully.

_Or you could be honest,_ came a thought that almost sounded like it had Gandalf's voice. Bilbo glanced up and saw the Wizard still in his place but his attention perhaps was drawn to the fire. Several of the other Dwarfs had gathered behind their sitting comrades.

"Well," Bilbo began, adopting a tone he used when he rarely told stories. "My father was Bungo Baggins, and he built Bag End. Which, I guess, was his only claim to fame in The Shire."

"Was he strong?" Ori asked.

"Uh, no," Bilbo admitted. He laid a hand on his chest. "He was, well, my size."

"But he built Bag End, he must have been very good with his hands," Bofur submitted.

Bilbo nodded, as he exhaled. "Yes, yes he was. Though much of the work he directed."

He wasn't sure why he had added that part. After all, Dwarfs could appreciate a builder of things. A delegator of things, not so much. "He, uh, designed much of it but left much of the work to others because he spent so much time with my mother."

Relieved to have nods around the circle at this explanation, Bilbo continued. "It was expensive work and it took about a year to dig out, and the furnishings didn't become complete for three more years."

"Expensive," Thorin nodded raising a brow. "Perhaps your family has a history of burgling?"

A few "ahs!" of explanation and understanding arose from around the fire but Bilbo frowned, knowing full well that Thorin didn't expect that to be the case. He shifted to face the Dwarf directly now.

"That is not true," he pointed, trying to keep the indignation from his tone. "My mother was the daughter of The Old Took, which had one of the wealthiest families in the Shire. He was Thain, you know."

Thorin said nothing, but held his gaze and his eyebrow up.

"And your mother?" Ori interrupted. "What was she like?"

Bilbo could not hold Thorin's stare, and Ori's question was welcome in excusing him from it. "Well, my mother was…"

He tried to think of a word to use here. Belladonna Took had been beautiful in his memory. She had been strict and forgiving. She had nice things and told great stories and knew who to pretend to be kind to, and who to help.

"Your mother was a remarkable Hobbit."

Bilbo turned his gaze up as Dwarfs around the fire craned their necks to witness Gandalf materialize into the fire glow. He had his hat under his right arm, and his pipe in his left.

"Belladonna Took was a dear friend of mine, as was The Old Took that Bilbo had mentioned. I knew Belladonna when she was very small."

Bilbo stared, aware that his mouth was partly open. There were a lot of things he wouldn't know, then, about his mother. She had spoken of Gandalf, but Bilbo could not recall all of the details of those stories. And she had often spoken of them later in his life, when he had been no longer interested in long walks and tree climbing and Elves. And his mother's stories…

"She put adventuring to rest," continued Gandalf, "when she had a family and a husband to take care of and she managed the affairs of Bag End quite shrewdly. Though I have no doubt that she would disapprove of your adventure, Master Baggins, had you traveled in lesser company than that of Thorin Oakenshield's."

The Dwarfs took this as a mighty compliment and nodded approvingly. Bilbo found that he could not turn away from the kindness in Gandalf's face, nor forget those words about the interpretation of his mother's wishes.

And beside Bilbo, Thorin cleared his throat. "Then you, Mr. Baggins—like the rest of us—will have to do your family proud."


End file.
